


The Target

by Maiden_of_Asgard



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Kidnapping, One Shot, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21772264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiden_of_Asgard/pseuds/Maiden_of_Asgard
Summary: Tess was having a perfectly normal, boring day at work when a silver-armed man decided to burst into Stark Tower and kidnap her.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	The Target

Tess woke up with a splitting headache and the urge to scream.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything about either problem, because her hands were literally tied, and the man who’d kidnapped her sat staring at her in a way that implied that screaming might be a very, very poor choice.

She didn’t know what had happened. One minute, she’d been minding her own business, tapping away at her keyboard and daydreaming about the sushi she was going to have for lunch, and the next… The next minute, everything had turned into explosions and flying shards of glass and metal, and a masked man had burst into the room and pointed a gun right at her head, and that was the last thing she remembered.

They were in the back of some kind of vehicle, and they were moving, but that was really all she could tell. It was dark, and she couldn’t make out much other than the man’s eyes above his mask and the gleam of the silver metal armor that covered his left arm. Tess closed her eyes and tried to ignore him, and the minutes crawled by at an agonizing pace.

She winced when he suddenly yanked the gag from her mouth; she hadn’t even heard him move closer to her, which only served to make him more frightening. He propped her up in a seated position and held a bottle of something up in front of her face. Tess shook her head, regretting it immediately when the pain lanced through her temple. 

The expression in his eyes didn’t change, but he grabbed her jaw and dug his fingers into her cheeks, forcing her mouth open. Tess tried to squirm away, but there wasn’t really anywhere to go, and when he poured the liquid in her mouth, it did taste like plain water.

She thought about spitting it out on him, anyway, but considered the iron grip still crushing her jaw and ultimately thought better of it. If he was going to drug her, then he wasn’t going to give up that easily, and pissing him off didn’t seem like the best use of her energy. Maybe she could be charming. Maybe she could play up the damsel-in-distress card… and it wasn’t like she’d have to do much acting. She  _ was _ in distress.

“Who are you?” she asked, blinking back tears. “Where are we?”

He recovered her mouth and moved back to the spot where he’d been sitting when she first opened her eyes.  _ Great job, Tess,  _ she told herself.  _ Way to turn on the charm. Super effective. _

Whoever the silver-armed man was, he hadn’t killed her, but he also hadn’t said a single word to her, so she didn’t really know what to expect. Maybe he was getting off on that, she thought. Maybe he was enjoying her apprehension and terror. Sure, he didn’t exactly  _ seem _ like he was deriving a great deal of enjoyment from the situation, but she couldn’t see the entire lower half of his face, so who could say for certain?

Her friends and family had asked her if she ever worried about taking a job at Stark Industries, and Tess had always laughed at the idea that someone with as low of a security clearance as her would ever even have a reason to worry. It was true that Stark Tower tended to attract a lot of attention - sometimes of the supervillain variety - but Tess was a nobody, a non-essential.

There was no reason anyone would ever bother with her. She was a glorified lab-assistant. She kept up with memos and paperwork and travel documentation, and she occasionally ran out to get coffee or drinks for the Important People, who she was proud to say typically remembered her name and thanked her for her trouble. Maybe  _ someday _ she’d climb up the ranks and actually get her hands on fancy, important experiments like she’d dreamed about all through grad school… but that was a lofty, far-off dream.

It was a dream that, unless she managed to get away from this exceptionally uninformative assailant, would probably never come to fruition.

She tried to interrogate him with the gag still in her mouth, and he must’ve found her muffled tirade irritating, because he whipped out a very wicked-looking knife and pointed it at her. “Stop that,” he said.

Tess flattened herself against the wall behind her back, eager to get just as far away from that knife as possible. The man’s voice wasn’t what she’d expected; it was younger, softer.  _ How old is this guy?  _ she wondered.  _ Did he plan this? _

It clearly wasn’t a one-man operation, given the fact that someone else had to be driving whatever vehicle they were currently riding in, and such a blatant attack on Stark Tower seemed like a big undertaking for just one person, even a person as clearly well-equipped for destruction as him. It was far more likely that he was some kind of middle-man, and if that was the case, it meant that Tess’s odds of survival would likely decrease greatly once they reached their destination.

With that in mind, she decided that she’d have to risk testing her limits. The fact that she was alive probably meant that she was supposed to get to wherever they were going alive; silver-arm guy didn’t seem like the type who’d mind bringing in a dead target, if he could. If she was relatively certain that he wasn’t going to kill her, then escape would become much more feasible. Once the knife was safely tucked away wherever it was in his body armor that he kept it, she said a prayer for luck and kicked him in the ankle as hard as she could.

The man moved fast, and Tess found herself on her back, all of her weight uncomfortably resting on her neck and shoulders as he stood over her, her ankle in his hand.  _ Well,  _ she thought as his grip tightened,  _ there goes my foot, I guess. _

But instead of snapping her ankle, which seemed like the most likely outcome, the man pulled off his mask with his free hand. “The hell’s wrong with you, Red?” he asked, a little bit of emotion finally appearing in his eyes.

Tess stared. Much like his voice, his face was… not what she was expecting. He didn’t look older than thirty. She grunted around the gag, in case he’d forgotten that she couldn’t really answer. He dropped her, and she flinched when he crouched over her and pulled the gag away. Her mouth was as dry as cotton, and she was tempted to ask him for more water.

“Trying to see what you’d do,” she admitted. “If you’re going to kill me—”

“The mission is to bring you in alive.”

_ Well, that’s good news, _ she thought. “Mission from who? Who do you work for? Who are—”

His hand clamped down over her mouth, the metal cold. “I always follow my objectives,” he said. “Don’t make me change that.” She nodded warily, and he removed his hand, though he still loomed over her. He smelled like ash, and she wondered if her face was as dirt-streaked as his. It looked good on him, added to his menace; she doubted it was as flattering on her.

The man went over to one of the boxes in the storage racks along the wall, and Tess marvelled at his balance. With how fast and wildly the vehicle they were in was moving, she doubted she’d be able to keep her footing. He pulled out what appeared to be some kind of protein bar and tossed it at her. She missed - and missed terribly - and for a very uncomfortable moment, the man simply stared at her like he wouldn’t particularly mind strangling her.

She held up her bound hands. “Sorry,” she said weakly. 

He stomped over and retrieved the bar, unwrapped it, and stuck it in her hands with a little more attitude than she’d consider entirely necessary. “Eat,” he said. “We’ve got a long way to go.”

Tess choked it down, even though it was probably the least appetizing meal of her life. If they had a long way to go, then that meant she had time to possibly escape - somehow. It was cold out, and she had no idea how far away they were from civilization. She figured she should stock up on calories while she could. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled when she was finished. “Um… water?”

He silently offered her the bottle from earlier.

The quiet was maddening. She needed something to drown out her morbid thoughts, to distract her. Otherwise, she was going to start panicking again, and she imagined neither of them would find her hysterical sobbing very pleasant. 

“So,” she said, once the silence became unbearable, “think I’m gonna make it out of this alive? How are my odds?” When he didn’t answer, she decided that maybe asking him directly about her fate and his mission was off-limits. “I’m freezing. I wasn’t really dressed for this, I guess. I never need a jacket in the lab. But I mean, how do you dress for being kidnapped, anyway?”

He sat watching her, still unresponsive, but he didn’t seem particularly angry about her rambling. Tess decided to take that as a positive sign. “I think it helps that this is so surreal,” she told him. “If I let myself think about the fact that it’s actually happening, then I’d probably lose it. You know what I mean? Dying is probably my greatest fear, and getting tortured is pretty high up there.”

She might as well be talking to a brick. A sentient, menacing brick with deceptively pretty eyes.

_ Great,  _ she told herself.  _ Now you’re admiring the eyes of the guy who’s probably going to end up killing you. Way to go, Tess. It’s too early for Stockholm Syndrome. _

“What kinds of things are you afraid of?” she asked, deciding to pretend that they were simply awkward passengers on a particularly unpleasant road trip to nowhere. 

“I’m not,” he replied, surprising her.

“What do you mean? Everyone’s afraid of something.”

He didn’t reply.

“Who’s driving?” she asked. “Since you obviously aren’t alone, I’m surprised you didn’t make someone else take the job of babysitting me. You don’t seem to like it very much.”

“You’re my mission,” he said. “I stay with you til the end of the line.”

“I almost feel flattered. All this trouble over a nobody like me. You sure you got the right person?”

“I don’t make mistakes.”

_ Cocky, _ she thought. He didn’t sound like he was trying to brag, though; he just said it like it was a fact, and given that he seemed to operate on some kind of ruthless mission-driven efficiency, she supposed maybe it was true. If it was true, her life was going to be a lot more difficult, because she needed him to slip up to give her the opportunity to make a run for it.

“Do you usually avoid talking to your targets, then?” she asked.

“The situation’s never come up,” he said. “They’re always dead by now.”

“Oh.”

She fell silent after that, forced to ponder her own mortality. The man didn’t turn away from her. Tess wondered if he knew that she was trying to dream up ways to get past him and out of the truck, that she was wondering if there was any way she could get the jump on him and overpower him. If he did realize that was what was going on inside her head, he probably found it entertaining. 

When they suddenly jerked to a stop, Tess was terrified that they’d reached their final destination. The man hauled her outside, and she realized that they’d been travelling in the back of a huge truck that was deceptively normal-looking on the outside. Other vehicles were stopped around them, and she counted at least a dozen armed men. 

“Five minutes,” the man told her, holding onto her arm. “While the drivers are switching, you have five minutes outside.”

“Great,” Tess said, her mind racing. “I need to pee.”

He gave her a look that spoke of unending irritation, but he led her off into the woods by the road. They must’ve been heading north, or into the mountains, because it was much colder than it had been in the city, and the snow was thick on the ground. He let go of her arm once they were out of sight of the rest of the men, even though they were still within earshot. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but at least the only person with her now was someone who took his mission of  _ not _ killing her pretty seriously...

“Hurry up.”

“What, are you going to  _ watch _ me?”

She didn’t expect him to care much for her outrage, so when he crossed his arms and turned around, she was so startled that she actually hesitated for a moment or two before the adrenaline kicked in enough for her to take off running.

Tess found herself face-first in the snow almost immediately, tackled by the man with the silver arm. He wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her to her feet, staunchly ignoring her protests as he carried her back to the trucks. 

Her disheveled appearance and desperate wriggling to escape his grasp drew more attention than she would’ve liked, and several of the armed men came closer to observe the spectacle.

“The Soldier does not like this mission, I think,” one of the men said, his voice heavily-accented and rough. “More work to take them alive.”

_ The Soldier? _ she thought.  _ What kind of name is that? _

One of the other men said something she couldn’t understand. Russian, maybe? His tone wasn’t very comforting, nor was the way he laughed. 

The Soldier didn’t laugh, though. His grip on her arm tightened. His response was terse, whatever it was that he actually said, and he hauled her back into the truck. 

A minute later, and they were back on the road. 

Tess cursed herself for failing so miserably. She should’ve come up with a better plan, something that actually had a chance of working…

“You wouldn’t have made it far, even if I hadn’t been there.”

She glared at him. “So, you’ve decided to be chatty now, huh?”

“Don’t push your luck, Red.”

“My  _ name _ is Tess. I figured you knew that, since you  _ kidnapped  _ me—”

He held up a hand, and she immediately fell silent. The Soldier stood, moving closer to the door, his brow creased in concentration. 

Tess heard the rattle of what could only be gunfire outside, and the truck swerved, tires screeching. She wasn’t able to catch herself in time, and she slammed against one of the metal storage racks, hissing in pain. The Soldier threw himself on top of her as something slammed into the truck and tipped it on its side, and she screamed at the top of her lungs as her world flipped upside-down.

He kicked open the crumpled doors and hauled her out into the snow, firing his gun as he did. Tess squeezed her eyes closed and continued to helplessly wail, nearly certain that she was about to die. Fortunately, the Soldier seemed too preoccupied to care how much noise she was making, and the sound of shouting and explosions and gunfire drowned everything else out, anyway. 

They took shelter behind another overturned - but slightly less damaged - truck, and when Tess dared to actually look around, all she saw was chaos.  _ Good guys,  _ she wondered,  _ or are these more bad guys?  _ One of the men she’d seen earlier fell to the ground not far away in a spray of blood. It didn’t really matter who was who if she ended up getting shot.

_ Please let this all be a nightmare,  _ she prayed.  _ Please.  _

Another man shouted something to the Soldier, pointing emphatically at her and seemingly angered when the Soldier didn’t respond. Impatiently, he repeated in English, “Shoot her and be done with it! We must go.”

And then he aimed his gun at her when the Soldier still failed to respond, intending to take care of the now-useless hostage himself, but the Soldier shot him before he could, and Tess finally found her voice completely gone when she tried to scream.

“I haven’t failed my mission until you’re dead,” he said, and then he shoved her into one of the snowdrifts piled by the side of the road. “Stay down.They’re coming for you.”

Tess curled into a tiny ball; with the gunfire popping off all around her, she was too terrified to do anything else. She felt his hand on the back of her head, urging her lower to the ground, and then he was gone, and she didn’t move an inch until the sounds of gunfire died away, stuck shocked and shivering in the snow.

“I’m not armed,” she called when she heard voices approaching. “I’m not… I’m Tess. I was a prisoner.” Carefully, slowly, she emerged from the snowbank, her hands held above her head. Her eyes flooded with tears of relief. She’d seen S.H.I.E.L.D. agents before, working in the Tower.  _ It is the good guys,  _ she thought, a bit dizzy now that the adrenaline had begun to wear off, and she crumpled into some random agent’s arms when they lowered their guns and rushed forward to help her.

“We’ve got her, sir,” one of the agents called over his radio. “She’s okay.”

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents unbound her hands and bundled her up into yet another truck, and Tess made out the distant figure of Captain America himself racing across the snow in pursuit of the rest of the group that had kidnapped her. They’d want answers, and Tess had none to give them; she still didn’t understand what had happened, and why it had happened to her.

She was slightly star-struck when none other than Natasha Romanoff climbed into the back of the truck with her. Tess had seen the Black Widow coming and going in the Tower, but she’d never thought they’d actually have a conversation. She wished it was under better circumstances.

“Are you alright?” Agent Romanoff asked, crouching beside her. There was genuine concern in her eyes, which Tess found a bit surprising, given her occupation. “They didn’t hurt you?”

“No,” Tess replied. “I mean… I’m in pretty good shape, considering.”

Agent Romanoff nodded. “The man who took you from Stark Tower, did he say anything? Anything at all?”

“Not much. He said I was supposed to stay alive, but wouldn’t say why. Said it would mess up his mission objectives if I died, which… I guess that worked out well for me in the end, because he let me go.”

“He did?” Agent Romanoff said sharply. 

“Yeah. He kind of smashed me into the snow and told me to stay down. I wish I could tell you his name, but he wouldn’t say. The other men called him the Soldier.” She smiled apologetically. “That’s probably not very helpful, is it?”

“It is. You should count yourself lucky. You’re the only target to survive the Winter Soldier.”

Some of her relief began to fade, tampered by the solemnity in Agent Romanoff’s eyes. “What does that mean?” she asked. “Is it… Am I still a target?”

“He doesn’t give up on missions. He’s relentless. He has been, for decades.”

“Decades? But… but he didn’t look older than me,” she said. “How is that—”

“We need to get you somewhere safe,” Agent Romanoff said. “As long as he’s out there, Tess, he’s going to be coming for you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt: "would definitely die to see you write a winter soldier story where the oc is part of his mission to bring her in or something along those lines"


End file.
